


How To Lose a Winning Match

by forthegenuine



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 01:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthegenuine/pseuds/forthegenuine
Summary: Day 2: “You always say such horrible things.”/ “I am sorry, forgive me.”The air was heavy at the Watsons’, for it was revealed at the start of the evening that Molly and Sherlock had an outstanding bet with one another, on who would win that night. So far, they were tied.





	How To Lose a Winning Match

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops, my hand slipped.

"Molly..." he said, his unblinking blue eyes fixed on her.

"Yes, Sherlock?" she replied with an adopted tone as sweet as his was warning—and, more impressively—as if she did not just let out a string of expletives a short moment ago. She did not meet his eyes however, and instead, kept her gaze on the board and its pieces in front of her in undeterred concentration.

Exasperated, he went on. "You always say such horrible things on nights like these. There are children in the room." He pointed at an adorably oblivious Rosie, who was at the other end of the dining table, attempting to fit a discarded Scrabble tile rack in her mouth. "You're going to get us kicked out of Game Night.”

The air was heavy at the Watsons’, for it was revealed at the start of the evening that Molly and Sherlock had an outstanding bet with one another, on who would win that night. So far, they were tied. Molly excelled at Scrabble, while Sherlock found himself quite adept at Settlers of Catan.

Molly was saved from having to supply such an accusation with a response. "Oh, tush! Rosie's got a foul-mouthed retired soldier and me for parents," Mary countered, confiscating Rosie's plaything and replacing it with a bottle. "Molly can come to Game Night any time she wishes because she's damn good at it. And so I can play on her team!"

"There are no teams in Cluedo," pouted Sherlock. "Plus, why don’t you want to be on my team? _I’m_ the real detective in this room.”

“Oi!” Everyone looked at Greg expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. He simply shrugged his shoulders and bit into another one of Sherlock’s homemade gingernuts. “Never mind. He keeps making these biscuits, he can say whatever he wants.”

John snorted into his glass of whisky, still coming up short on ways to make fun of Sherlock on his newfound domestic side. (Who would have imagined? Recreational baking, doing Game Night, with _actual_ friends.) So far, he’d only thought of three.

“Molly…” Sherlock whinged again. His eyes lingered this time, imperceptibly, at Molly’s lower lip, to which she absently held the tip of her pencil in thought.

Suddenly, her eyes wide, she looked squarely at Sherlock. She wore a triumphant grin, betraying her next words. “I am sorry, forgive me. But I’m about to make an accusation: it’s Colonel Mustard, with a dagger, in the library!”

Greg retrieved the envelope, and after reading its contents, proclaimed, “She’s right!” Everybody applauded the pathologist on her superb deductive skills.

John watched Sherlock pensively, observing that he didn’t seem as dejected as he normally did when he lost at something, and after all, he was Mr. Will-Outlive-God-To-Have-The-Last-Word. “You’re really taking this loss quite well, Sherlock. I half expected you to flip the table when Molly won that last one.”

“Oh,” Sherlock waved nonchalantly. “The terms of the bet were that whoever loses has to give the winner unrestricted sexual favours for a whole night.” He paused, offering the table a smug smile and Molly a waggle of his eyebrows. “I’ve absolutely nothing to be unhappy about.”

After a beat of shocked silence, John declared, “And that’s it for Game Night for the rest of forever. Thanks for coming, everybody. It was fun while it lasted.”

Turned out, it was Sherlock who got himself banned from the next two Game Nights. It was not until he presented the group with an improved recipe of gingernut biscuits that he was once again reinstated.

That night, however, Molly most certainly collected her winnings—and she did so, for many, many nights afterward.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, folks! I'd appreciate your feedback so much! Cheers x


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